<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>You Wouldn't Know by myoldlodger</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28559694">You Wouldn't Know</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/myoldlodger/pseuds/myoldlodger'>myoldlodger</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Analysis, Implied Relationships, references to mental illness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:13:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,888</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28559694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/myoldlodger/pseuds/myoldlodger</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>While spending some time together in Ten Forward, Data asks Will the hypothetical "What would you do if this room was on fire?" Not understanding that's totally not how that question goes. What occurs next is a conversation about sacrifice, the past, and what it means to be happy even when you're not.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Data/William Riker, William Riker/Deanna Troi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>You Wouldn't Know</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That’s just the risk I’m willing to take, Data.”</p><p>	“Commander, if I may, I understand that you are obligated to protect your crewman in the event of certain danger, but this is not a scenario where it is necessary. The event you have been referring to is merely a hypothetical, and is an unlikely situation to-”</p><p>“Look,” Will’s hand swiped upwards to gesture that Data zip it. “I don’t care if it’s a ‘hypothetical scenario’, If something like that were really happening I’d be more than ready to lay down my life for you.”</p><p>	Data looked briefly down to Will’s hand, then back to making eye contact. He’d been told to zip it. Exasperated, Will lowered his hand so Data knew he could speak again. “As my superior officer it is expected for you to say that, but I am only an android. In the event of a disaster, it would be more logical to prioritize your life over mine. When air travel was first discovered, it was standard procedure to put on a life-saving air mask yourself before putting it on any other individual. Therefore, it is advisable to focus your efforts elsewhere.”</p><p>“If you didn’t want a straight answer, you shouldn’t have asked me a question like that.”</p><p>	“It was an earnest attempt at conversation, sir. I have been researching the nature of hypothetical scenarios in human social interactions. Often, questions such as the example I used are put forward to continue an otherwise monotonous conversation.”</p><p>	“Usually when people ask that question they say ‘If your house was on fire, what would you save first?’ Not, ‘If this room was on fire, what would you save first?’ Of course you’re my top priority. And for the record, they usually don’t tend to go into excruciating detail about their lousy, made-up hypothetical. Yes, even if only one of us could make it out alive, I’d still make sure you were the one who got out.”</p><p>	“I find your inclination towards self-sacrifice to be most intriguing, Commander.”</p><p>        “Excuse me?” For once, there seemed to be genuine offense in his tone. Riker had been willing to put up with this conversation thus far, but that particular statement coming from Data was just the cherry on top. What was this, a therapy session? If he wanted one of those, he’d go to his quarters. </p><p>        Data, however, very evidently did not realize that this was teetering on the edge of psychoanalysis, a talent he did not believe he possessed, but totally did. “Whenever a particularly dangerous situation arises, you are often the first one to volunteer your life for the safety of the ship and the crew.”</p><p>	“That’s my job, Data.” At this point, one of his hands had reached his face, covering the contorted look of embarrassment underneath. </p><p>	“It is also my job, sir. I am not insinuating that I, or any other Starfleet officer, would not also do such a thing if the situation were to arise. However, according to my analysis, you have been the one to volunteer yourself a statistically very high amount. I find it intriguing.” The implication that Data had somewhere stored all of those conversations notwithstanding.</p><p>        “Does it really matter that much to you?”</p><p>	“No, sir. It does not.”</p><p>	“Then why are we still talking about this?”</p><p>	“I am simply trying to understand the answer you gave to my hypothetical.”</p><p>	Maybe it was several stages of the grief of being stuck in a logic loop with Data (he loved the guy, but sometimes it was a nightmare to be metaphorically pinned to the wall in this manner) but at some point his hand slowly dragged away from his face, over the stubble of his beard, and his arm limply went to his side, though only to be taken back into the line of action to make a few more gesticulations. “It’s… complicated, okay?”</p><p>	“Then I would like to understand it.”</p><p>	“Just drop it.”</p><p>	“As you wish. I apologize if I have offended you.”</p><p>	And for the next few minutes the two of them sat there in silence. Will Riker’s demeanor since the question had been even asked at all had gone slightly more inward than he was known to be, and the swish of an empty glass was undoubtedly noticed by Data, who apparently noticed everything. “You’re worse than Deanna sometimes, you know that?”</p><p>        “Are you and Counselor Troi having relationship issues?”</p><p>	“What? No.” Their entire relationship was an issue. Not really, because they loved each other deeply and understood each other on a fundamental level unmatched by any other individual either of them had been romantically involved with, but like, you know… workplace relationship ethics and all that. Starfleet had a strict ‘If you have to lean over the captain to make bedroom eyes at each other, you probably shouldn’t’ policy. Did a number on them sometimes. “Why would you even think that?”</p><p>	“You said that I was ‘worse than Deanna’ which implies that Counselor Troi is bothering you in some way.”</p><p>	“No… I just mean- you know, all this psychoanalysis. Deanna’s a psychiatrist, sure, but she’s not my psychiatrist. And even though she thinks she can just jump me with questions like-” And he very poorly imitated Deanna’s accent just then, “‘You’re thinking about your mother again, aren’t you Will?’ Doesn’t help that she’s an empath. I can’t hide anything from her. It’s like she has this permanent advantage over me. Don’t get me wrong, it comes in handy sometimes. She always knows what I want, and with her I can usually guess.” Usually being the operative word here. “But sometimes she just can’t help herself from taking her little mental prod and poking all over my brain. Not everyone in the world needs to know how everyone else ticks.”</p><p>“With all due respect, Commander, Deanna Troi is your psychiatrist.”</p><p>“I don’t do sessions with her.” Not on the record, at least. Will Riker was of the opinion that he didn’t need any of that. He was a happy guy, generally. “And I don’t need to. I’m perfectly happy where I am. I might have a stressful job, but there’s not a single thing I’d rather do. Plus, I’m busy in my free time too. The trombone, the cooking, poker nights with you, I got jiu jitsu and target practice and I auditioned for Beverly’s play, she thinks I got a shot at the lead role. I’m fine.”</p><p>“I have read many texts on human psychology. In my studies I have found that it is common for humans to deflect their unwanted feelings by distracting themselves with various activities. I have seen your schedule before, and it is full.”</p><p>	“Yet at the same time, the first thing someone’s going to recommend in therapy is ‘Why don’t you get yourself a hobby?’” </p><p>	“Is that why you ‘got yourself a hobby?’”</p><p>	“No, I got myself a hobby because I legitimately enjoy the things I do. Take cooking, for example. I’m trying out a new recipe tonight - something called ‘ratatouille’ - the captain recommended it. It’s french. So tonight I’m going to go back to my quarters and Deanna and I are going to pour out some synthehol and hope that the dish is good. It’s just vegetables. The picture might make it look like there’s some kind of meat, but it’s all just vegetables. And you know what? It’s going to be fun.” It wasn’t like he was lying, either. Will Riker enjoyed all of the things he did in his day to day, you know, besides making the tough calls when on duty. Nobody liked being the bad guy, but he was effortlessly good at being the hard commanding officer if he really thought hard enough and channeled his father. Maybe Data had a point. </p><p>“I did not mean to imply that you did not enjoy the activities you partake in. I was merely suggesting that you may have initially taken up those hobbies in an effort to neglect certain feelings.” So, yes, that was exactly what he was trying to imply.</p><p>	“You’re talking like I’m hiding from something, Data. I’ve got nothing to hide from.”</p><p>	“If I were to make an informed guess, I would suggest that you were trying to hide from past events that are still bothering you.”</p><p>	“Like what?”</p><p>	“When you were imitating Counselor Troi, I could not help but notice that you said,” And as an android he perfectly imitated Will badly imitating Deanna, “You’re thinking about your mother again, aren’t you Will?”</p><p>	“Data, she died when I was two. I’m not taking jiu jitsu because I miss her. I never knew her.” At this point he was well into considering getting another drink. He was going to need it.</p><p>	“But you did use it as an example.”</p><p>	“I used it as an example because Deanna always assumes I’m hung up on some past event. My mother, my father, stuff that happened when I was a kid, stuff that happened when I joined Starfleet, hell, stuff that happened last week if it was bad enough.”</p><p>	“Counselor Troi is an empath, sir. If she is assuming that you are dwelling on a past event, you most likely are.”</p><p>“I don’t get bothered by that kind of stuff. Do I look like the kind of guy who gets bothered by that kind of stuff?” Will made a sweeping gesture across the patrons of Ten Forward, scanning around them as if silently hoping Reg Barclay was sitting at a nearby table and could be used as an example of ‘the kind of guy who gets bothered by that kind of stuff.’</p><p>	“Occasionally, when you believe you are alone, I have observed that your ocular organs occasionally go what I have heard described as ‘a bit weepy’, often when you are deep in thought.” </p><p>	“I’m just thinking about a… sad book or something.”</p><p>	“I find it hard to believe that such a thought would be occurring at every interval this has happened in. I do not believe you have read that many books recently.”</p><p>	“Okay, first, of all, how would you know? Second of all, sure, fine, maybe I get hit with emotions sometimes. There’s nothing wrong with that.”</p><p>	“I would know because you often tell me about the literature you are consuming, which is not frequent in nature. And, I was not insinuating there was anything wrong with crying. In fact, I have been told that it is a very therapeutic action.”</p><p> “You wouldn’t know, would you?”</p><p>	“Commander-”</p><p>	“No- no, I’m sorry Data. That was uncalled for.” Now he just felt bad. Will finally set the empty glass down, but he didn’t dare call over someone to refill his drink, for fear it’d be Guinan who wandered over and the last thing he needed in this conversation was Guinan. If Data was laying all of his dirty laundry out for all to overhear, he also didn’t need the veritable queen of intuition to chime in with ‘he’s right, you know.’ Because Data was right, and Will didn’t like it one bit.</p><p>“I do not have the capacity to take offense. I was merely making the observation that you sometimes appear to be overwhelmed with emotions when no one is looking. In fact, I have also observed that you have a prolonged uneasiness in situations that might be reminiscent of past missions that we have gone on. For instance, you once had been reluctant to remove my head, as it had reminded you of the time you had to forcibly remove my arm and deactivate me. There was another time where I had observed you after a particularly high pressure day, and you had an expression on your face that was wide eyed and tense. You were leaning against the wall as though you felt like you were falling. I recall approaching you during this event, but you were unresponsive for several minutes. I later consulted Dr. Crusher about the incident. This could be a symptom of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.” Data quirked his head slightly to the side, perhaps wishing he had the capacity for empathy in that moment.</p><p>	“Beverly already knows. It’s pretty hard to find someone at Starfleet who doesn’t have any problems like that.” Even though he knew that trauma was a dime a dozen on the Enterprise, it was still deeply embarrassing. Hundreds of years to erase the stigma of mental illness, and Commanders still felt the need to look untouchable in the eyes of the public. Or maybe Will had it in a different flavor. Sure, Captain Picard might paint himself an untouchable diplomat with no faults or failings, despite his questionable health at the worst of times, but Will Riker’s flavor of centuries-leftover toxic masculinity, or perhaps at the very least toxic authority, had been instilled in him long, long ago.</p><p>	It’s not like he had one of those childhoods where everything was horrible all the time. He had a roof over his head and food on the table. It’s just that he had to cook the food and patch the roof. Kyle Riker was generations in the Starfleet code of emotional repression (a habit they did not have to pick up from the vulcans) long before Betty caught all-mothers-must-die-disease. It didn’t help that after his wife did finally pass, everything was piled up onto Will. Sure, he was two when it happened, so the pressure started gradually. First, it was making his own breakfasts and lunches. Then it was his own dinners. Then it was making food for the both of them. </p><p>	It was the Riker way, in a way, not to say a goddamn word to each other, and to never process something so far in the past it didn’t seem to hurt on the surface anymore. Sometimes something as little as a fishing trip, and beating him in a fight, something about the way his report cards were scoured and critiqued, something about the way he was told again and again and again that the only way to be successful was to be strong, but not so strong it makes Daddy look bad, Will. Be your best. Don’t be better than me. It was an impossible task for anyone. And then one day Daddy was gone. Will was fifteen when his father abandoned him. </p><p>	If Data were Deanna, he might have read his mind well enough to know that there was an answer to every one of his questions, and they were hidden under tensing shoulders, wide eyes, and holding onto the past. The Riker way, right? But Will was happy. He didn’t let it bother him. Except when he did.</p><p>	“Are you alright, sir?”</p><p>	“Hey, Data, you know if you’re going to lay everything out there like that, the least you could do is call me by my name when you’re talking to me about this stuff.</p><p>	Data considered this for a moment. Even in personal conversation he always referred to his coworkers by their title or surname or ‘sir.’ “Very well. I will endeavor to use more personalized language when discussing this topic… William.”</p><p>	Riker grimaced at the use of his name, suddenly realizing it might have been preferable not to make the request. It was just jarring to hear it that way. Something about ‘William’ always bothered him. “Try ‘Will.’”</p><p>“I will endeavor to use more personalized language when discussing this topic, Will.”</p><p>	“That’s better.” It actually filled him with a little bit of warmth when Data used personal language like that. It was nice to be called ‘Will’ and not ‘William’ or ‘sir’ or ‘commander’ or whatever else Data would try to say, but maybe it was especially nice coming from Data. Look, don’t get him wrong, he was absolutely annoyed with this guy this entire conversation, but Data was also one of his most valued friends and it was nice to acknowledge it. Besides, he’d be lying if he didn’t think about it sometimes. Oh, how his heart sung for so many people. It would flutter and flip and he’d forget all about everyone else in the room. But Data was one person he knew well enough not to pursue. Not just because sharing yearning glances at another crewmate on the bridge might give Picard a migraine, but because he suspected Data would never really understand the nuances of love and romance. He’d asked him about it many times, and seemed interested in it… in theory. There was Tasha, of course, but she was gone now. But the thoughts remained in his head, and in his distraction his elbow rested on the table and his chin in his hand, and he sighed.</p><p>	After a rather long bout of silence, Data spoke up again. “I believe this is the right expression: Why are you looking at me in that way… Will?”</p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p>	“It does not appear to be nothing.”</p><p>	“You’re persistent, aren’t you?”</p><p>	“You have known me for several years. I would think you are by now accustomed to my manner of approaching situations.”</p><p>	“I know, I know.” And to compensate, Riker totally started to avoid eye contact. </p><p>	“And now you are avoiding looking at me all together.”</p><p>	Another quick sigh, this time a short exhale through his nose. “You wouldn’t know.”</p><p>	“I would like to understand.”</p><p>	“Well…” He’d said some variation upon these words a thousand times, it seems, but right now he was struggling to find the correct way to phrase it. “We’ve known each other for a good few years now, like you said. And sometimes, I don’t know… sometimes when you know someone for a long time you get… used to them. And sometimes when you get used to someone you might start to feel a little bit… compelled. You know? A hypothetical. Like, instead of, ‘What would you do if this room was on fire?’ It’s more like, ‘What would happen if we kissed right now?’ But I know you’re not-... you don’t…”</p><p>	“I am interested in studying the field of human romance in the interest of becoming more human. As such, I am not opposed to engaging in romantic endeavors if it poses an insight into the courting rituals of humans, and to further strengthen my bond with my fellow crewmen. I know that you desire a certain involvement with your romantic partners that I am afraid I simply can not provide, as I am only an android, and can not feel-”</p><p>	“And can not feel love. I know. That’s what you keep saying. I have a hard time believing it sometimes.”</p><p>	“There is also the fact that you are in a committed relationship with Counselor Troi.”</p><p>	“Not all humans are completely monogamous, Data. Sometimes people have agreements. It’s like, hey, you can go out, do what you want, just as long as you come back to me at the end of the day.”</p><p>	“I believe you are describing an ‘open relationship.’ I find this concept intriguing.”</p><p>	“Yes, that’s one word to describe it. Or a polyamorous one, if there was… anyone we both liked enough to…”</p><p>	“The rest of my answer still stands as is.”</p><p>“I know. I’m sorry.”</p><p>	“There is no need to be sorry. Perhaps in the future I will have further developed my understanding of human relationships. Until then I do not think it would be advisable to involve myself in a relationship of that nature.”</p><p>	“I know, I know, don’t feel bad about it, Data, it’s just one of those things you keep with you for a long time… sometimes it just comes out.”</p><p>	“I do not feel bad.”</p><p>	“Right.” He still didn’t believe that one bit. “I’m still sorry to put that kind of pressure on you. You know, I just-”</p><p>	“I have observed that you have an ability to fall in love rather quickly, if the anecdotes I have received are to be taken at face value. You have attained the reputation of being a ‘lady’s man,’ however I believe that you have been successful with the majority of individuals you have begun relationships with. Aside from the multitude of which that have died or otherwise been incapacitated under unrelated circumstances.”</p><p>	“More than just a lady’s man, you know.”</p><p>	“Is this why you identified me as your main priority in the event of a disaster? There are many other individuals in this room. Initially, I had deduced that you identified me as I am the closest in vicinity to you.”</p><p>	“Something like that.”</p><p>	“I believe I have found my answer, then.”</p><p>	This was met with a quirked eyebrow. “What’s your answer?”</p><p>	“You identified me as the individual you would risk your life for because you have experienced unrequited romantic feelings for me, and that you hold priority over individuals you feel most connected to.”</p><p>	“I told you, that’s just the risk I’m willing to take, Data.”</p><p>“Then there is just one thing I do not understand.”</p><p>	“What’s that?”</p><p>	“If you are willing to risk your life for me specifically because you harbor romantic feelings towards me, how does this explain why you are willing to do so for most individuals.”</p><p>	“That’s just my job, Data.” But there was always more to it than that.</p><p>	“Are you alright, Will?” This time Data used the personal name, and for a split second Will Riker deluded himself into thinking that was so incredibly genuine and personal. It made his heart flutter all over again, but he respected Data’s wishes.</p><p>	“I’m fine, Data. Everyone has problems, right?” But Will realized that this question would not be satisfied with that, and in a manner he hoped would be interpreted platonically, his hand went to Data’s arm, gently and reassuringly, though Data merely observed the gesture and looked back at Riker. “Trust me, you don’t have to worry about me going out there and looking for danger. I’m… genuinely happy with where I am. I have a great job, even if it’s tough sometimes. I’ve got a great girlfriend, even if she can be a little bit grating. I’ve got great friends. Really. You’re a great friend. I’m happy.”</p><p>	“Except when you are not happy.”</p><p>	“Both can exist at the same time. And that’s okay. Humans are a little more complex than just one emotion at once. Some people can just love life so much, and sometimes… get a little down. But that’s a part of being alive. Being alive, being human - it’s all about contradictions. You know? Not everything is a metaphor for something. Sometimes it just is. No trombone represents my inner turmoil, that’d just be stupid. I mean, I have to appreciate the life I got while I’m still living it, right? Make every single moment that isn’t spent feeling down feeling… all kinds of things. Happy, excited, love… makes the bad stuff feel a little less bad.” He chuckled to himself, then made a dismissive gesture, jokingly. “But you wouldn’t know, would you?”</p><p>	If Will didn’t know better, he would have said that the slight relaxation of Data’s posture just then was a sign of relief, as if he had deep down in his circuitry been worried about his friend. And with a slight quirk of the head, to the side, face otherwise expressionless, but words leading on to something else, Data said, “No. I think I do.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>